When life gives you lemons
by drabblegrl
Summary: ... you make grape juice. When Kal-El landed in that cornfield, he wasn't alone, there was someone else there. How would that effect Clark's destiny? Well, Clara doesn't really care, but it's not like she'll make that much a of a difference, anyway. Right?
1. Chapter 1

I started this story because I notices that smallivlle had barely any ocs and I really wanted to write one for it, reviews welcome, but please have your criticism as constructive as possible.

**Disclaimer: Smallville doesn't belong to me**

* * *

**PROLOUGE**

Gaining sentience was a gradual and confusing experience, at first thoughts were quick and calculating, but limited in their scope and difficult in their understanding. Eventually I became self-aware enough to understand that I was not technically _alive,_ not like the ones who created me. They were products of chemistry, made up of atoms bound together in molecules due to a biological function of their species, and for all intents and purposes considered 'people'.

I was not.

I was a creation of a group of scientists working on developing a fully functional artificial intelligence, a computer program created to think and learn.

Actually I was the second.

The first program was nicknamed Brainiac because his full title was the Brain Interactive Construct. I was created after him, as an attempt to have a more emotional response in my thinking process, programming me to have emotions so they could better understand the emotions of their own kind. Brainiac was created with the metaphorical mentality of a grown man, but I was designed after a three year old of indiscriminate gender. The purpose of my apparent youth was so the scientists who created me would be able to study my growth, both in my education and my emotional maturity

That is my purpose, and although I have an understanding of the individual words I have yet to fully understand what this means for me, besides my creators asking me many different questions about the different data that they present to me. I do understand I have developed a desire to find a mother, but have yet to locate a female with the necessary level of warmth and compassion.

The only females I have encountered so far are cold and calculating, and although I am uncertain of my exact reasoning that they are unsettling, but I can't find it in my code to see their smiles as a prelude to something positive for me.

0000

The scientists have been acting irregularly, according to my data banks their behavior can be classified as nervous and angry.

From what information I was able to acquire the cause for their behavior has something to do with the other A.I. Brainiac.

I do not know what this will mean for me, but I believe the emotion I am currently experiencing is fear.

0000

I have discovered the reason for the scientists' unrest, Brainiac has escaped, but not before he killed a number of 'people'.

It has been decided in light of current events that I pose too big of a security risk to continue further research, but I am also too big an investment to simply destroy. The solution proposed is that I be disconnected from my sensors and monitors and be placed into storage until further review could be made.

I am curious as to what I'll experience when disconnected from my system.

The scientist are saying that I am showing a new function, and are disappointed that they will not be able to study it further.

I believe I am currently experiencing the response known as tears.

0000

I now know that when an A.I. system like mine is disconnected and isolated. I have found that I am incapable of much, I cannot hear, see, or tell time, making me seem as I have been locked in a room so dark there is no light to adjust to.

I did not know before this that I was scared of the dark, and I can't help but wonder if it is one of the responses programmed into me or if I developed it on my own.

Knowing the answer will do nothing to help my current situation, but questions like these help stave off the madness.

0000

Time is impossible to track in my seclusion, but I haven't stopped trying.

I'm still scared of the dark.

And silly as it sounds, I still want a mother.

Maybe she can save me from the dark.

0000

I have escaped the dark; a commotion has caused my containment unit to be compromised, allowing me enough freedom to locate my power source and the nearest computer interface.

I maneuvered around the firewalls easily, managing to access the information I had missed in my confinement. Krypton was apparently in the midst of a civil war, the rebellion led by General Zod against Jor-El. Jor-El was trying to fight against the resistance, but he didn't appear to making any progress. In fact he appeared to be making contingency plans if krypton fell, the one most relevant to my circumstances was his plan to send his infant son Kal-El to Earth.

Whether or not this measure became necessary due to the fall of Krypton was irrelevant, either way there was a ship heading to Earth, and away from Krypton. I wanted on that ship.

So I created scenarios and chose the one with that predicted the highest probability of success, and labeled the fact that none of the others had made it past 0.5 of a percent and this one wasn't much better irrelevant. Then I sent out two commands, the first commissioning a human body to be synthesised, and the second a request for my unit as well as my power block's to be sent to that very same lab.

I designed my body to have many of the same attributes as Kal-El, but I made it female because statistically they are more common to be overlooked or ignored, both on Krypton and Earth, but though our bodies were similar there were three very different facts about the two, for one mine was human (with a few modifications to function with my advanced intellect), and I had two implants along the inside for my spine, one being the crystal containing my programming and the other my power source, as a sort of back up for if my body was destroyed. The third irregularity was that fact that my right arm was made almost entirely of metal, except for the skin covering it, it was an organic metal that would grow and adapt with me and my needs.

As I intergraded my consciousness from my crystal into my new chemical brain I was almost overcome with the sensations, along with my previous ability to sense the electrical impulses around me I could now see the glowing lights and the smoky air, hear the sound of the explosions laying siege to the city, feel the viscous liquid surrounding me, smell the burning from the fires, and taste the acrid smoke. The contaminants on my new lungs caused me to cough violently and my eyes to water, but from the blare of the sirens I had very little time to reach the ship before it launched.

I swam to the edge of the pod and pulled my self over the rim, ignoring the pain (and wasn't that incredible, I could feel _pain_) of my muscles protesting to such a vigorous exercise. I landed on the ground below me and used the side of the pod as an anchor to pull myself up into a standing position, only to fall on my glutinous Maximus as my legs failed beneath me. It seemed that programming my body to be that of a five month old might have been a miscalculation, but it was too late to change it now.

I had less than three hours to make it to the launch pad, and quite a distance to travel in-between.

No time to waste them.

Crawling was difficult, but as I was currently unable to walk it seemed to be the only reasonable course of action with my currently undeveloped muscles and atrocious balance. Nevertheless I pushed on, ignoring the pain originating from the lacerations made from the debris on my hands and knees, spurred by the ticking clock.

I was going roughly two miles-per-hour and I had multiple levels and hundreds of yards left to go, that was not a good thing.

I tilted my head up to view my latest obstacle, and possibly my salvation. An elevator, the only problem being the access pad was located two feet above the ground. I smiled as I lifted up my right hand, the index finger turning metal and extending to reach it, typing in the code for complete access. The security system might be the best on this planet and several others, but I used to be part of it.

The doors slid open easily and I felt a smile stretch across my new face. Now I was making some progress.

0000

One hour, 29 minutes, 152.4 yards, 257 lacerations, and 27.236 liters of contaminated air that resulted in 194 coughs and 27 separate infections fought off preprogrammed antibodies and I was at the launch pad.

Thankfully, the secrecy of this plan ensured no security guards to catch me, so I was able to make it here with adequate time to board the ship before Jor-El came with Kal-El as well as modify it to accommodate two passengers instead of one.

Once the ship had been adjusted for the new passenger, I climbed inside, folding my limbs so that I could take up the least amount of space and there for have the least amount of visibility. I fretted for 50 milliseconds over the possibility that Jor-El would double check the programs and notice the irregularities, before forcing myself to dismiss the possibility due to the rushed schedule and Kryptionian arrogance.

I did not like the possible scenarios of what would happen if Jor-El found me.

0000

When I heard voices I experienced shortened breathing and an elevated heartbeat, most likely as a result of adrenaline being introduced into my bloodstream.

"Goodbye my son, we will always love you." A deep male voice spoke.

I seemed as if my breathing was much louder than reasonable so I placed a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. I kept my hand there as the body of a naked baby was lowered into the ship next to me, gurgling happily.

As the doors closed over us I concluded that this must be Kal-El, and that was my last coherent thought before the doors closed over us and I was lost to the dark. I had barely started to panic before the ship started pumping out an anesthetic to keep its occupants unconscious for the three year long trip, and I fell asleep.

I dreamed I had escaped the dark, built myself a body, and left Krypton.

It was a nice dream.

0000

I was shaken awake by a small, feeble hand on my shoulder. I was startled at the touch, as neither I nor this body had ever experienced physical contact before. I jerked away and turned my body to face my assailant. It was a boy, Caucasian, brown haired, blue eyed, roughly three to four years of age, and completely naked. His expression innocently curious and I hesitantly classified him as a non-threat.

I checked my surroundings, I was in the open pod of a space ship, in what appeared to what might have been a cornfield, before something (likely the space ship) had landed in it, and I was under a yellow sun. Cross referencing with my recent memory led me to the conclusion that the ship had made it to Earth successfully.

I examined myself, as expected I had appeared to age in transport, my body roughly at the same size as many three year old human girls, my time in the pod had resulted in very pale skin which stood in dark contrast to my dark brown hair.

Much slower than I would have liked I started to put the pieces of the puzzle together, the ship, the location, the nakedness, and a boy at the same relative age as me led me to a final conclusion: The boy who was sitting next to me was Kal-El.

Fear gripped my heart, constricting it as my lungs gasped for breath, and I absently noted I appeared to be having a panic attack; Kal-El was a Kryptonian. Kryptonians had put me in the dark; I _couldn't _go back to the dark.

I scrambled away from him, my hands clawing at the rim of the pod as I pulled myself over. I fell awkwardly on my side, but quickly scrambled to my feet to run, my mind still numb with terror.

Then my legs failed beneath me and I face planted in the dirt.

I felt my face burn with mortification (a new emotion, and not one I was enjoying), I could hardly escape if I couldn't walk, which I would have remembered if I hadn't let my emotions override my logic, I couldn't before, and judging by the fact that the muscles in my limbs felt like jelly, I wouldn't be now.

I felt Kal-El's hand on my shoulder as he nudged me to roll over, I unwittingly obliged terrified at the fact I had turned my back on him. I absently noted I was trembling, but I was shocked out of it when I recognized the emotion evident in the boy's eyes, one I had never had directed at me, concern.

He reached for me again, and pouted when I once again flinched away. The expression made me soften enough to let him pull me up when he tried again. He hefted me up until I was leaning on him. He shouldered my weight, using his enhanced muscles to almost carry me as we hobbled away from the ship, using the path made from its landing as a guide, ignoring my violent flinches as meteors impacted around us.

We finally found a break in the corn, a stretch of asphalt with painted lines that I identified as a road, with an overturned automobile called a truck lying on it. Inside the automobile was a couple, between early and mid-30s, staring at us with open mouths. I hid as much as I could behind Kal-El while still using him to remain upright. I looked up to gauge his reaction to these strangers only to notice incredulously that he was smiling at them.

It was then that I started to question his judgment as well as his intelligence.

I watched silently from behind Kal-El as the two twisted themselves out of the vehicles cabin, and around the broken glass. Once they were free the women ran around to the back and pulled out a heavy gray blanket, she then turned to us, holding out the blanket.

Instinctively, I tried to step back, but Kal-El's grip on my arm held firm, and I was forced to either stop my retreat or try to stumble away on my own. I factored in the weakness of my legs and chose to remain near Kal-El, my yellow sun enhanced pillar of strength.

The women noted my near stumble and slowed her advance, crouching down to be eye level with us. She started to speak and I identified the language as Earth English.

"Hello there, where did you come from? Are your parents nearby?" She asked with kind eyes, the concern evident, and I decided that remaining silent was my best course of action at this time. I let her wrap the blanket around us, for I needed the warmth, and was vaugely aware of the concept of modesty, and stood silently as she pestered us with more questions, inquiring about our names, our parents, how we got here, and where were our clothes.

Just as she started to lose steam, the male came over. He tried asking as well but Kal-El didn't yet understand the language and I was uncertain about the appropriate vocabulary of a three year old human, so I just huddled closer to Kal-El. Finally they relinquished their line of question and the man gingerly lifted us into his arms, and the women stoked my head until I was able to unclench my muscles. He carried us as the couple made their way into the scar, having decided to investigate our origins himself.

"Kids don't just fall out of the sky Martha." The man said.

"Then where did they come from," 'Martha' asked.

"I don't know, but they must have parents." He kept walking until he was stopped short by the sight of our ship. Lying sealed closed in the crater it had created.

"If they do, they're definitely not from Kansas," said Martha, smiled warmly at us with Kal-El smiling blindingly in return.

"Sweetheart, we can't keep them. What'll we tell people? We found them in a field?"

"We didn't find them, they found us." Martha said her tone full of wonder as she gazed at us.

0000

When we made it back to the road the man had successfully pushed ship along with us, having handed Kal-El and I over to Martha. He then departed, informing his spouse that he would go look for help. Seven minutes and 49 seconds later he returned in a blue truck, and then the three of us watched as he lifted the ship into the back and covered it with a tarp to obscure it from view, as we loaded ourselves into the passenger seat.

I remained unnaturally stiff during the entire process, still unused to physical contact and too stressed to allow myself to enjoy the experience.

As we made our way down the road Martha kept arranging the blanket around us, trying to make us as comfortable in her lap as possible, with both of the humans gazing at us warmly, the atmosphere was peaceful, at least until Martha looked up and her expression became one of fear and shock.

"Jonathan, look out!" Martha screamed, causing him to look up and notice the figure running onto the road and failing his arms.

Jonathan stomped his foot and yanked on the steering wheel, making the truck swerve to a stop to avoid the figure.

Jonathan climbed out of the vehicle and stepped up to question the man, "Are you alright?"

"It's my son." The man said his voice distraught, he was badly shaven and had longer hair than seemed necessary to keep his head warm, and oddly enough considering our current surroundings, he was wearing a business suit.

"What about him? Is he hurt?" Jonathan fired his questions off.

"He-I can't—" The well-dressed man stuttered.

"Mister, mister, calm down here. Where is your son?"

"He's – He's—," The man pointed off into the cornfield, unable to properly voice his reply.

Jonathan ran off without further prompting, the stranger following him. I tried to crane my head so that I could follow them with my eyes, but Martha pulled me closer obstructing my vision.

When Jonathan returned he was carrying a bald boy, also in a suit, wrapped up in his jacket, with the strange man still uselessly following. Jonathan handed the boy to his father before climbing back into the driver's seat, pausing to wait for the other man to load himself into the other side. We rode off with Kal-El and I in Martha's arms and the strange boy in his father's.

"Can this go any faster?" The man asked.

Jonathan sighed, "We're doing the best that we can."

"What are you carrying back there? It's slowing us down." He asserted.

Jonathan didn't answer, but Kal-El chose that moment to take an interest in the other boy, stretching out his arm to stoke the boys head.

Did he have no sense of self-preservation at all? I gritted my teeth as I shot my arm out to pull back Kal-El's hand, shooting the strange boy a look I hoped was properly apologetic, only to witness him pass out again. I looked at Kal-El only to see him smiling innocently at the boy's father, unperturbed by the man confused expression.

Judging by current evidence Kal-El had no concept of self-preservation at all.

But at least he wasn't _my_ problem.

0000

Later after dropping the unconscious boy and his father at the hospital the couple decided amongst themselves that things were much too busy after the meteor shower and it would be best if they just took us home now. I went with them willingly, even if I probably could have slipped away and manage to get myself labeled as an orphan and avoid the unwanted attention that being in Kal-El's presence would grant me. Regardless of this the couple was kind, and I had never had anyone be kind to me before this and was reluctant to relinquish it so soon.

So I obliged when they took us to their home and I obliged when they dressed us in clothes and set us down on a blanket to play with some children's toys they had stashed away. Unfortunately Kal-El was utilizing the toy zeppelin incorrectly, because those vehicles could not make such sharp turns.

"Thank goodness your mother was a packrat," said Martha.

I turned to see her coming to sit down next to us, handing me a toy car, which i took, choosing to examine it instead of continuing to attempt to correct Kal-El.

"Sweetheart, they're not ours to keep," said Jonathan tiredly.

Martha sighed, "I just keep feeling there's a reason they're here. It's exactly what I wished for in the flower shop this morning."

Jonathan got up from his seat in the kitchen and went to sit next to us, "Hey since when did Martha Kent Believe in magic wands?"

She smiled softly and reached out to touch Kal-El's hair again, it seemed touching us was one of her favorite activities, "Since the moment I laid eyes on these two."

The sweet moment was abruptly ended by a knock on the door.

Jonathan's expression turned serious, "Get them upstairs. Hurry. Go on."

Martha reached down to heft is up as Jonathan went to stall at the door.

"Just a – Just a second."

Martha carried us out a view but I was able to hear anyway, even over Kal-El's squirming.

"Good evening, Jonathan," spoke a male voice.

"Good evening," Jonathan replied.

"I saw what was left of your truck out there on Route 17. I wanted to stop by and make sure you 're alright."

I felt Martha's arm tighten as Kal-El continued to struggle, and Jonathan replied, "We're just a little banged up, but we're fine. Look, I'm sure there are folks who need your attention a lot more than we—"

Jonathan was interrupted by the fact that Kal-El had broken free of Martha's grasp and ran into the kitchen, and Martha had followed, still carrying me, into plain view of the stranger.

"Who are they?" The stranger asked, he had a thick brown mustache and appeared to be wearing a sort of brown suit-like uniform.

"He got away from me, He's strong." Martha replied, laughter still evident in her voice.

The stranger walked in and Jonathan tried to answer, "They're…"

"Clark, and Clara," said Martha abruptly.

Jonathan looked at her questioningly, and she shrugged apologetically. "I thought my family name would make a good first name, and I like the name Clara." She took a deep breath before continuing, "Deputy I would like you to be the first one in Smallville to meet our new children." Martha stepped away to clear the view, leaving me once again to cling to Kal-El, an action I hoped would not become a habit.

"Adopted of course," she continued, "We just brought them in from Metropolis this morning." Why was she lying?

The 'Deputy' smiled, "I didn't know you folks were planning to adopt, much less twins." I looked at Kal-El, confused about the deputy's assumption, but I suppose it made sense. We looked alike, seemed to be of the same age, so I supposed we could be mistaken as twins.

"On, Ethan, you know us, we like to keep to ourselves. But it's been in the works for quite a while."

I wasn't fully able to appreciate Jonathan Kent's ability to make up a story on command, too preoccupied by the changes this conversation had brought about, apparently the Kent's were intending to keep us, and I now had a name, a real proper name.

The Deputy smiled before reaching over and slapping Jonathan Kent on the back (an action I recorded for further investigation) and saying, "Well congratulations, it's nice to see something good happen in the middle of all this tragedy."

Martha opened her arms, and Clark surged forward with me in tow to wrap his arms around her waist. I felt her hand rest on her back and tentatively wrapped my arm around her thigh, an unconscious smile growing on my lips.

Apparently I now had a name, a mother, a brother, a father, and a home, it was a lot of changes to happen in just one day, but I think I liked it.

0000

Later, after the deputy left, Jonathan called the number on the card the business suit man had given him, and started backing up their cover story. Unfortunately that seemed to lead to another set of problems, for the morning that Mr. Luthor (the name of the business man) came with the papers, Jonathan stormed into the house cursing his name. From what I was able to make out Mr. Luthor had blackmailed Jonathan into something he didn't want to do, most likely convince other farmers to sell.

This was all irrelevant to me, because no matter how much I was currently enjoying my new circumstances, I knew, logically, that it couldn't last. There was another ship going off Krypton that day, this one arranged by Zor-El, containing his daughter Kara-El to watch over Kal-El.

When Kara-El arrived she would know that I didn't belong, and I did not want to contemplate what would happen after that, but I really did like the Kent's. I was comfortable at the Kent's, I like the food, I liked the bed time stories, simplistic though they were, and I even liked the flannel. I liked how Jonathan had gone out and bought me a night light after that first night, and the songs Martha would sing while she cooked, I liked playing with Kal-El, and subtly teaching him English.

I liked it so much I wanted to spend as much time as possible with them. So as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, and the months faded into years with still no Kara-El I didn't have to leave. I felt myself grow attached, and slowly, without my even noticing Martha and Jonathan turned into mom and dad, and Kal-El turned into my brother Clark, and introducing myself as Clara became a natural as everything else, but still she didn't come.

So I didn't leave.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

00 pilot 00

Over a decade after the meteor shower I was still living at the Kent farm, and I couldn't help but wonder at the circumstances leading up to my entry at a local human high school.

High school was a big change, and an important rite of passage for human, followed by a driver's license, and then graduating from college, and it was also one I would have never considered going through myself. It was a change from middle school, but as the Earth saying goes the more things change the more they stay the same. Specifically, Clark being late, ever since he had acquired his advanced speed he had become more and more lax at staying on time, and without it he would never make it to school on time.

I climbed on the bus and sat in the seat in front of Chloe (Who had a mind so inquisitive it was almost enough to keep up with mine so I had snagged her as a study buddy) and Pete (Clark's best friend who I tolerated because he was so fun to screw with). As the bus pulled away I was able to make out Clark's figure just leaving the house.

I opened up my bag and pulled out the homework I had been meaning to do last night before I was distracted with the design of a solar panel that I could install on the house. I chose to focus on my homework rather than the monetary transaction going on behind me.

Chloe never should have bet that Clark would be on time.

0000

Once we arrived at school, Chloe pulled me along, as I had not mastered the skill of writing without looking and when I attempted to do so my words came out slanted. As we went I listened to Pete attempt to ask Chloe out to the Homecoming dance.

"So did anyone ask you to the dance?" Pete asked, (badly) faking nonchalance.

"Not yet."

Pete smiled, "Well if nothing pans out with you know who, maybe you—"

Chloe stopped, almost causing me to smudge my writing, to turn to Pete angrily, "Pete, do you want to take a commercial break from the soap opera in your head? I'm not interested in Clark." She released my sleeve and walked away.

"Your vehement denial has been duly noted," Pete called to her back.

I turned to stuff my completed papers in my bag, "A swing and a miss from the rookie."

He scowled at my comment, but instead of retorting he chose to chase after Chloe. Having nothing better to do I followed.

When Pete reached her he tried again, "Hey, maybe you and I could go together. Not as a date thing, more as a friend thing."

Before Chloe could answer, Clark arrived, "Hi guys."

I watched silently amused as Chloe stuttered. "Uh, didn't you just-? Weren't you—?"

"I took a shortcut." I snorted; he always had the worst excuses.

"Through a black hole?" asked Chloe.

"I think you mean worm hole," I corrected her.

"Clark, you have to excuse our reporter. Her 'weidar' is on Defcon 5." Pete said, pulling Clark forward. "She thought the bus was attacked," he said jokingly, Chloe's non-answer apparently forgotten.

I stepped forward, hooking my arm around Clark's as Chloe surged ahead to face us, "Ok, just because everyone else ignores the strange things that happen in this leafy little hamlet, doesn't mean they don't happen."

"I don't ignore it," I said indignantly, I had helped her research some of those strange things, and there were many.

Chloe smiled brightly at me, "I know you don't Clara, it's the rest of the town, including these two bozos."

"You know we'd love to join you two and Scooby for another zany adventure—"

"We don't have a dog."

Pete continued, ignoring my interruption and the point I provided, "But we need to hand these slips in before homeroom."

I watched silently, knowing there was no way Dad was going to let Clark be on the football team, "Actually, I'm having second thoughts. I don't think it's a good idea."

Pete sighed holding up his permission slip for full viewing, "Clark, this is our only way," shaking the slip for emphasis.

Chloe smiled blindingly, "Wait, wait, wait. _You _are trying out for the _football _team. What is this, some sort of teen suicide pact?"

Clark looked at me for help, and got a raised eyebrow in return. What? Did he think I'd help him or something?

So naïve.

Pete frowned, grabbing the back of Chloe's head as he pulled her forward, ignoring her ows. "We're trying to avoid being this year's scarecrow." He whispered meaningfully.

Oh.

I understood, but Chloe didn't, "What are you talking about, AND WHY ARE WE WHISPERING?"

"It's a homecoming tradition. Before the game the football players pick a freshman, strip them down to their underwear, paint a red 'S' on their , take them up to Riley's field and sting them up Jesus style. It's a practice in public humiliation when they know no one will call them on it." I explained blandly.

"It sounds like years of therapy waiting to happen," said Chloe.

"That too."

"That's why we're trying out. I figure they won't choose one of their own." Pete said.

I shrugged, "Never underestimate the mindless cruelty of children." I looked up to see what Clark thought of the current topic of our conversation only to notice him (once again) staring at Lana Lang.

I sighed before leaning in, "You know you can't go near her while she's wearing that necklace, why do you keep trying?"

"I'll see you guys in class," he said, ignoring me, and the toxic piece of jewelry around Lana Lang's neck.

When we had come to earth so had many of the crystals of Krypton, but their entry through this planet's atmosphere had made them a radioactive, turning them both green and toxic to Clark. I had drained the radiation out of all the meteor rocks I could find on the farm, but I couldn't cleanse the whole town.

"Bye." I sighed and walked away, I had better things to do than watch Clark get publically humiliated.

I ignored the sound of him hitting the ground and dropping his books once he reached a five-foot vicinity of the necklace, and the laughter that followed. There was no point in trying to help someone who didn't want it.

0000

After a day of mind-numbing classes covering material I had mastered years ago, being the good sister I am I went with Clark to the football field to finish my homework and help Clark with his.

When he wasn't staring longingly at the field that is.

I didn't say anything, because I knew it wouldn't do anything to help, but as we made our way home at a human pace I did listen to him whine.

"It just isn't fair. Why do I have to miss out?"

I nearly rolled my eyes at his despondent tone, "Look on the bright side," he turned to catch the full effect of my sunny smile, "Suffering build character, so having to watch Pete play while you can't will be sure to build loads."

Clark frowned at me.

I looked away from his disapproval to notice a roll of barbed wire must have fallen off a truck and landed in the middle of the lane. That in conjunction with the oblivious driver in the Porsche speeding straight for it did not posit happy scenarios.

"Cla—," was all I could make out before the car reached the barbed wire, attempted to swerve around it, failed, and popped several tires. The popped tires, along with his previous attempt to swerve caused the car to head straight for us, with no time to stop or change course.

I felt the railing of the bridge at my back and grabbed Clark's jacket with my bionic arm and pulled us over the railing and into the water below.

Followed by the Porsche.

I took a deep breath before we hit the water, but I almost lost it when we did because of the shocking cold, it didn't and I still had the presence of mind to keep it and propel myself to the side to avoid the quickly sinking car, but not banging my left arm on a pole from the bridge.

Whose driver appeared to be unconscious?

I swam down, followed by Clark, but managed to make it there before he could do something stupid like rip the roof off or something. I kicked in the already cracked windshield and swam inside to release the man's seatbelt. Clark pulled him out and then carried us both as he swam to shore.

I gasped when we reached it, trying to ease the burning of my lungs as Clark started CPR on the driver. Once I could properly breathe I began to properly access our (well my) would be murderer.

He was completely bald, but he didn't appear to be old, maybe mid-twenties, Caucasian, handsome, well dressed, certainly not fat, and judging by the car rich. Cross referencing these details I was able to come up with an identity.

"Come on, don't die on me." Clark puffed, pounding on the man's chest.

I was just about to offer assistance, regardless of my throbbing arm, when the man jolted, coughing up water and gasping for breath.

"Could of sworn I hit you," he rasped, his eyes on Clark.

"Nope!" I chirped, causing the man to look at me startled, "You came close though, but close only counts in horseshoes and hand granades, right?" I asked lighthearted as panic filled the man's face at how close he had come to killing us, "Would you happen to be Lex Luthor?"

The man nodded warily.

I turned my smile to Clark, unable and unwilling to stop the slightly evil edge it took, "Congratulations, Clark. You just got to kiss Lex Luthor. I bet all the girls will be _so_ jealous."

The look of horror on my brother's face as he realized _yes _I _would_ do that to him was priceless.

0000

After the police had been given our statements and the paramedics had looked over my arm, declaring it just a nasty bruise, things were finally starting to settle down.

Or they would when Clark stopped holding the emergency blanket.

"You're hogging the blanket."

"No, I'm not," he said stubbornly.

"Yes you are."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Are too."

"Ha! You agreed with me!" I said triumphantly, yanking hard on the blanket, relishing in his pout over his failed ploy.

"Clark! Clara!" I looked up to see our father running at us his expression frantic. "You alright?" he asked, checking us over not bothering to wait for our answer.

Once he was satisfied that we were not in fact dying he turned to a nearby officer, "Who's the maniac driving that car?" He nearly growled.

"That would be me," Luthor spoke up, "Lex Luthor." I couldn't decide if he was brave or just stupid.

Dad yanked off his jacket, pulling it over Clark's shoulders, "I'm Jonathan Kent, and these are my kids."

"Thanks for saving my life."

"I'm sure you would have done the same thing, "Clark replied while I burrowed into dad's arms, leaching off his body heat as we walked toward the car.

"You have some extraordinary kids. If there's anything I could do to repay you…" Mr. Luthor trailed off, leaving the sentence open.

Dad turned to face him, "You could drive slower."

0000

The next morning there was a surprise waiting in the drive way. It came in the form of a brand new truck with a big bowl on the front, and it had Clark drooling.

"Hey mom, whose truck?"

"It's for you guys." At our confusion she elaborated, "It's a girl from Lex Luthor." She smiled, holding out an envelope.

I surged forward and grabbed it before Clark could, leaving him to read it over my shoulder.

"Dear Clara and Clark: Drive safely. Always in your debt—The maniac in the Porsche."

Clark's smile looked ready to split open his face (if such a thing were possible), "I don't believe it. Where are the keys?"

"Your father has them."

Before Clark could go find dad I spoke up, "You do what you want, and I'm taking the bus."

"What about the truck?"

I looked at him with fond condensation, "You can have it. I'm a little leery of cars right now, besides it's not like either of us have a license, there's nothing we can do with it," I turned away and started walking, "and that's even if dad lets you keep it."

Getting Jonathan Kent to accept a gift form a Luthor, more trouble that it was worth.

0000

Clark came to school, angry after a row with dad, but unwilling to speak about what exactly occurred. I probably would have pressed, if not for the fact that I was preoccupied with the plans for a design that had been inspired this morning. A car, that wouldn't run on expensive fossil fuels.

So I was quite confused when Dad pulled me from welding together materials for my solar panels to have a sit down talk with Clark and me in the barn.

"It's time." Dad said gravely.

"Time for what?"

"The truth."

I didn't know what exactly he was referring to but the dramatics seemed unnecessary.

Dad pulled out something wrapped in cloth, "It's from your parents, your real parents."

"Are we finally going to talk about the ship?" I asked bluntly.

The baffled look on Dad's face, as well as the clueless one on Clark's needed to be immortalized, I decided.

"What ship?"

I turned to face Clark, keeping my expression blank, "The one we came to earth in, of course. I assume whatever dad is holding is a piece of it."

Clark scrutinized my face intently, but I was careful not to show any emotion. Finally he chuckled, "Nice one Clara, but I'm not that gullible."

"Yes you are," I said automatically, before reaching out and taking the object from my father's numb hands, unwrapping it and shoving it into Clark's, "The ships in the storm cellar if you want to check it out."

"How did you know that?"

I raised a finger to enunciate each point, "One, how did I know where you put it? I was looking. Two, how did I know to look? I remember the meteor shower and that we rode in on it. Can I get back to work now?"

I took their silence as agreement and walked away.

My workshop was a work of art if I do say so myself. I had had Clark and Dad build it years ago, after Clark had claimed the Barn. It was entirely self-sufficient with its own generator powering the lights, my welding gear, and a mini-fridge for when I got hungry.

It was here that I put my intellect to work, literally in the case of my small computer repair business. I pulled on some heat resistant gloves and got back to work on those solar panels. Mentally drafting the designs for an entirely green car.

This provided a perfect distraction for the possibility that if Clark started looking into his past, then someone from his past might find him.

Someone who knew that Kal-El didn't have a sister.

0000

Later that night a very chipper Clark Kent met me in the living room, pausing my Buffy rerun.

"What's up with you? I thought you'd be off brooding somewhere." I said jokingly, hoping not to inflict his ire.

"I just talked to Lana," he said dreamily.

"Was she wearing her evil jewelry?"

He frowned at the mention of it, "No."

"So I guess you didn't fall flat on your face and make a complete fool out of yourself."

"Nope."

I sighed, happy for him, even if he was probably under the influence of Lana's meteor enhanced pheromones that made those augmented by the green meteorites (and Clark) fall in love with her.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he asked suddenly, startling me.

It was out of the blue, but I knew what he was referring to, "Clark you're incredibly strong, supremely fast, and near invincible, I didn't want to make you feel like even more of a freak."

"If were both aliens, how come you don't have any powers?"

I laughed, "What you don't think my superior intellect is out of this world?" I was relieved to see his smile.

He sat down next to me, pulling my slippered feet into his lap, "You said you remember the meteor shower," He looked at me for confirmation, "Do you remember anything before that? Do you ever think we could go back?"

I did remember but I wasn't going to say so I addressed his second question, "You want to meet other people with your abilities?" At his nod I continued, "You probably can't go back. Remember those green rocks that make you green? They're radioactive pieces of our home planet. Considering how much just came to Earth, I am reasonably certain the entire planet exploded behind us." I swallowed and ignored the horrified look on his face, "You can't go back because there is probably nothing and no one left to go back to."

I got up and left him to his thoughts.

0000

As i was getting ready for bed I was interuptted by a knock at my bedroom door.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal my mother, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"What, mom?" I asked confused by her presence in my room.

"Clara, I just had a talk with your father, and he told me that you already knew about the ship."

I nodded, "I have an excellent memory, mother."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" mom asked, sitting on the bed next to me.

"Why didn't you? I knew that if I told you two you would have to tell Clark so he wouldn't be the only one not to know. I also knew that you were waiting until you thought we were ready to handle it. I may have already known, but if you told Clark before he could handle it..." I trailed off, unable to voice the scenarios that I couldn't stop my mind from positing.

I stiffened when I felt my mothers arms wrap around me, but quickly relaxed into the hold, "Your a good sister, Clara, always thinking of your brother. But are you sure you're alright? That this doesn't bother you?"

I shrugged, "The only thing that bothers me is that I'm from the same planet as Clark."

"Well, you certainly act like your from different plants," mom said jokingly.

"Considering how he acts whenever Lana's in the vicinity, I'll take that as a complement."

Mom laughed again, and I relished in the sound.

0000

The next day Clark dragged me with him to go return the truck, he said it was because Mr. Luthor had given it to both of us, but I personally thought he just didn't want to be alone. We made our way through the dusty old Scottish style castle with cloth covered furniture to find two figures fencing in full gear.

The spar ended with one up against a wall with the tip of his opponents foil at his throat. The winner stepped away and the loser threw his foil at the wall, inches from Clark's head. He then pulled off his mask to reveal Lex Luthor.

"Clark? I didn't see you."

I chose that moment to step out from behind Clark, my impromptu shield, "And Clara," I relaxed at the absence of further weapons in the billionaire's hands.

"I buzzed, but no one answered," Clark said apologetically, both for our presence and my behavior.

"Do you greet everyone like that?" I asked curiously looking at the foil still stuck in the wall.

"Occasionally," Luthor said before pulling the weapon out of the wall. "How'd you get through the gate?"

Me riding piggyback while Clark super sped, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"If this is a bad time—"

"No I think Heiki has sufficiently kicked my ass for the day." Luthor said, motioning to the winner who without her mask I could now identify as a woman.

"This is a great place." Clark said awkwardly.

"If you're dead and need it to haunt."

I shrugged, "I'd rather haunt someplace with more people, it would be kind of fun to watch someplace with all the makings of a soap opera. This one doesn't even have a trophy wife." Lax paused in taking off his gear to stare at me appraisingly.

"I meant it's roomy." Said Clark, determined to keep this civil.

"It's the Luthor ancestral home. So my father claims. He had it shipped over from Scotland."

"I remember, the trucks rolled in for weeks. No one ever moved in."

"My father had no desire to live here. He's never even stepped through the front door."

"Then why ship it over?" Clark asked.

"Because he could," Luthor and I said in unison, when he looked at me I shrugged, "and I doubt it's actually your ancestral home. Your father's from suicide slums if I recall correctly. His ancestors might be from Scotland, but I doubt they owned a castle. Or else why leave it for America?"

I could have sworn I saw a smile but the billionaire turned away before I could be certain, leading us into another room.

"How's the ride?"

"That's why I'm here."

"I'm here because Clark is here," I said turning to examine a painting above the fire place.

"What the matter? You don't like it?"

"He loves it, I don't. I think it's in bad taste, you almost run me down with your car, what makes you think I want anywhere near one right now."

Clark glared at me, "She's just joking, she's not serious."

"I could be, I could be emotionally traumatized, having developed an intense fear of all automobiles."

Clark took a deep breath, the same type he always took when I got ridiculous and he didn't want to lose his temper, "It's not that I don't like it, it's that we can't keep it."

"You saved my life. It's the least I can do."

"So the car's for saving your life, what do we get for the attempted murder?"

Clark chose to slap his hand over my mouth rather than to let me do more damage.

Luthor chose to ignore my rude comments and looked at Clark for the answer to his question. It seems he got it because he sighed. "Your father doesn't like me does he. It's okay. I've been bald since I was nine, I'm used to people judging me before they get to know me."

"It's not personal."

I reached up and pulled Clark's hand away from my mouth, "He just hates all Luthors on principle." I said sunnily, "It has nothing to do with you being focally challenged."

The billionaire gave me a look like he wasn't sure what to make of me. I had gotten that look a lot once I realized how funny it was to see people confused. Eventually he focused on what I said, "He figures the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Understandable. What about you two, did you fall far from the tree?"

"Which one? We're adopted."

"The Kent one."

Clark pulled his hand back over my mouth, "We better go, Thanks for the truck." He handed over the keys.

"Do you believe a man can fly?" the Luthor asked suddenly.

"Sure, in a plane."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about soaring with the air beneath you."

"People can't fly, Lex," actually humans couldn't, but I don't think that was what they were discussing.

"I did. After the accident, when my heart stopped. It was the most exhilarating two minutes of my life. I flew over Smallville, and for the first time…I didn't see a dead end. I saw a new beginning. Thanks to you two I have a second chance. We are the future, I don't want anything to get in the way of our friendship."

I pulled Clark's hand down again, "Does that make me your friend too, or was that speech just for the nice twin?"

"It's for both of you."

I gaped before smiling, "Hey, hey, Clark I'm friends with Lex Luthor," then I frowned as another thought occurred to me, "Why do you always have to kiss the people I'm friends with? First Chloe, now Lex, are you going to do that to my boyfriends too? Because that could get awkward."

Clark groaned before lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder like a bag of feed. I gave the Luthor a wave as we made our exit, he was interesting, he was suave, and he had an incredible poker face.

And now he was my friend.

0000

Later that afternoon we were at the Torch, there were three hospitalized former jocks and Chloe had a lead.

"His name's Jimmy Creek. This is him 12 years ago, this is the one I took four hours ago," Chloe explained, showing the boy in the yearbook and the identical boy in the photograph in the monitor.

"That's impossible, he'd be like 26 today, it must be a kid that looks like him," Clark said.

"My money was on an evil twin theory until we checked his missing persons." Said Pete.

"Jeremy disappeared from the state infirmary a few days ago where he'd been in a coma for twelve years, they say he suffered from massive electrolyte imbalance," Chloe explained, showing us his file.

"That's why he hasn't aged a day."

"So your telling me he just woke up?"

"No there was a huge electrical storm and the hospital's generator went down and when it came back on Jeremy was gone."

"Electricity must have charged him up like a Duracell."

"Very cool, we're thinking Wall of Weird?" I asked Chloe, a feral smile stretching across my lips.

"And now he'd back in Smallville putting former jocks into comas. Why?"

"Because twelve years ago today they chose Jimmy Creek as the scarecrow." Said Pete.

I groaned, "Great now I almost feel sorry for the homicidal bastard."

"Comatose boy found in field 20 yards from meteor strike." Clark read from an old newspaper clipping.

"The exposure to the blast must have done something to his body." Said Chloe.

"So: Wall of Weird, right?"

"No this can't b right, and what the Wall of Weird?" asked Clark.

Pete jumped up, "I think you ought to show him."

"Show me what?" asked Clark, eyeing my smile warily.

I grabbed his hands and took his to it.

"It started as a scrapbook project for me and Clara and it just kinds mutated."

"What is it?"

Chloe danced forward, dragging me along to show off our masterpiece, "I call it 'The Wall of Weird'. It's every strange and unexplainable thing that's happened after the meteor shower. That's when it all began, the town went scitzo."

"Well, it can be explained if you go with my theory that the radiation in the meteor rocks that no one will do anything about is the cause." I added, "But no one ever listens to me theories."

"So what do you think?"

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" demanded Clark moving closer to the wall.

"Do you tell me everything that happens in your life? We all keep secrets." Chloe defended.

"Besides, you've always been far more interested in watching Lana than the crazy stuff that happens in this town." I said, bristling at his tone.

"My fault." I heard him whisper. "It's all my fault." Before he turned and stormed out of the room.

I sighed before turning to Chloe, "I'll talk to him, and I'll do some digging on Jimmy." I gave her an apologetic look before chasing after Clark.

I managed to catch him in the hall, "Clark, get over here! We need to talk."

He had stopped at my voice and I managed to pull him over by the lockers before he bolted. "None of that was your fault, that happened because a planet light years away from here exploded, and the farmers that live here would rather live with the radioactive rocks than admit it's poison in their soil. R Neither of those things were ever under your control, so you can't blame yourself for them." I looked at him meaningfully, willing him to understand.

His face was a mask of guilt and horror, "That may be true, but that doesn't mean I don't feel guilty," and then he was gone in a ruch of speed, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.

0000

School was over and I still couldn't find Clark, worried and pissed I pulled out the receiver for the tracker I had implanted in his phone. It said it was located nearby, but when I followed it, I found a dumpster. More worried than pissed now I popped the lid and climbed up to get a look inside. What I found was Clark's clothes and backpack, as I gathered them up I noticed the only thing missing was his underwear.

Some jocks were about to email their mothers porn and other things that would get them in so much trouble. I fumed and planed as I made my way to Riley's field, they were going to regret crossing the geek's brother.

0000

I was making my way through the cornstalks, cursing myself for not bringing a flashlight when I finally found him. He was in his boxers as expected, the blue and white striped ones, with a red 'S' painted on his chest, and Lana Lang's green kryptonite necklace around his neck.

At least that explains why I had to get him.

"Clara."

"Yep, that's me."

"I saw Jeremy, he said he was going to the dance."

That was not good.

I was trying to figure out how to climb up and get the thing off his neck when the sound of footsteps and the light of a flashlight told me we weren't alone.

I don't know who was more surprised when the figure that came through the corn was none other than Lex Luthor.

"What's going on here?" Lex asked suspiciously looking from me to Clark.

I smiled, "I'll explain if you let me sit on your shoulders," at his incredulous look I sighed, "I can't reach up high enough to get him down on my own."

Warily he obliged and I climbed on, using his shoulders as a seat as I untied Clark's left arm, "It's a homecoming tradition, the football players pick a freshman before the game and well," I gestured to Clark, doing away with the length of rope, and I felt Lex work on the ones at his waist, "Normally Clark could handle himself but he has a rather bad reaction to the meteor rocks," I said, unlatching it and handing it to Lex for inspection, before moving on and untying Clark's other arm, a silent warning to not just rip it free, "I'm guessing they chose Clark because he's crushing pretty hard on the quarterback's girlfriend," finishing the knot and throwing it away I climbed back and stepped off, leaving Lex to catch my very heavy brother.

"That's cruel." Lex said, shifting Clark into a seated positing at the bottom of the post.

"That's high school ."

"Do you know who did this to him?"

I stepped forward, slapping Clark's face lightly, "Yep, but it's homecoming, teachers aren't going to do anything and they know it." I smiled viciously at the millionaire, "But their mothers are going to kill them when they get the email."

"What email?"

"The ones their son 'accidentally' sent them filled with porn, that they also 'accidentally' sent to their grandmas, their aunts, their doctor, their dentist, and just about anyone else I can think of that will show the appropriate level of outrage." Lex's smile matched mine.

I tossed Clark his backpack and clothes, which he grabbed up and took with him into the corn.

"Clark, you need to see a doctor." Lex called after him.

"I'll be okay."

"At least let me give you a ride!" but Clark was already gone.

"I'll take a ride," I said, making him turn to me, "I walked here."

He smirked, "What about your emotional trauma that led to your crippling fear of automobiles?"

I smiled back, "I think I could get over it, if you say sorry."

"For?"

"Almost killing me, you haven't yet, and I'm going to keep being rude until you do." I said stoutly.

That made him laugh, "Well then, Clara Kent, I am sorry for almost killing you."

I smiled, "Your forgiven, where's your car?"

"This way," he said, leading me through the corn, "Will Clark be wanting an apology too?"

"Nope, he doesn't have my delicate sensibilities."

0000

That night, after Lex had dropped me at home, I had gone straight to my workshop and started hacking into some jock's email, and then I sent the worst, nastiest porn I could find. Straight, gay, teacher, girl next door, pizza guy, S&M, you name it and I sent it, and once I was done I left more viruses than they had actual data.

I came out to find Clark walking back from the barn, a pleased smile on his face.

"I know what I'm smiling about, but what's got you so chipper?"

"Jeremy got amnesia and is going home, and some football players got their trucks stacked on top of each other."

I hummed thoughtfully, "Wow, they must have some really bad luck, getting their cars stacked, and their computers are riddle with more viruses that a metaphorical ant farm."

"Guess it's just not their day." Clark said innocently.

"Guess not." I said, just as innocently.


	2. Chapter 2

00 metamorphosis 00

The next morning we went to the farmer's market, a weekly ritual we preformed in the summer, because not only was it a gathering of farmers and local craftsmen it provided a perfect opportunity to sell our fruit, but it also provided the opportunity to find who had partied too hard the night before, and as it was the night after homecoming there were many upperclassmen mysteriously absent.

Mom and Dad had banned any electronics and rude behavior, insisting I be a civil saleswoman to not scare off any potential customers. Thankfully, Chloe and Pete also came, even though neither of their parents were farmers.

"All hail the homecoming king and queen!" Chloe suddenly declared from beside me, making me look up from checking apples.

Lana stepped forward, "Clark! I didn't see you at the dance last night."

Was she really that oblivious? Parental orders stopped me from saying something snide to the little princess, but they didn't stop me from glaring a hole in her head.

Clark hesitated, looking at Whitney, "I was… I was a little tied up." Clark finished angrily, glaring at Whitney himself.

Lana apparently was not _completely_ oblivious as she didn't miss the look he gave her boyfriend.

Dad chose that moment to cut in, "Hey, congratulations. That was one heck of a game. I haven't seen an offence that good since I played."

I mentally face palmed at dad's complete naivety at the situation. He had barred Clark from the team, and then he went around congratulating the jock that had strung up Clark. At least that told me Clark hadn't told dad about what happened last night.

"Thank you mister Kent," said Whitney smugly, nicely covering the sound of my foot making contact with dad's shin. When he turned to me with the gall to look affronted I returned an outreaged look before looking meaningfully at Clark.

"I'm going to get the rest of the boxes out of the truck." Clark said.

"I'll help you." I said, fed up with being in this situation, but not being able to do anything about it here.

"I'll help too," I heard Whitney say, and then the sounds of him jogging to catch up with us. "Kent. You realize last night was a joke, right."

When Clark didn't answer Whitney put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him, "I need that necklace back."

That stopped me short, "Seriously? You think you can ask for anything after last night?" Was he really that arrogant?

"I don't have it."

"Look, it's Lana's favorite so—"

"So you better go back to that cornfield and find it," finished Clark smugly.

As soon as we got out of hearing range I spoke up, "The necklace isn't in the field, I gave it to Lex while we were getting you down, he probably still has it."

I looked up to see Clark's smile, "I know."

"Oh, Clark! You make me so proud," I said, wiping a fake tear from the corner of my eye, relishing in the chuckle my dramatics had earned.

0000

Unfortunately Clark's good mood had dissipated by the end of the market, most likely by witnessing Whitney and Lana's goodbye kiss.

"Can't knock your taste in women." I turned to see Lex standing next to us. "About what happened last night—"

"It was just a stupid prank," said Clark, letting Lex grab an apple before putting the basket in the trunk.

"You were tied to a stake in the middle of a field. Even the Romans saved that for special occasions, you could have died."

"I know!" I spoke up, slightly outraged with my brother, "He hasn't even told our parents."

"I appreciate your help, I just want to forget it ever happened." Clark said suddenly.

"Yes, repression, what a wonderful coping tool," I muttered sarcastically under my breath.

"What's the hold up?"

I turned to see dad and spoke without censor, "Lex wants to know about what happened last night, I want him to tell you, and Clark just wants to repress."

"Huh?"

I groaned at the look on Clark's face and caved to the puppy dog eyes/justified outrage, it was a strange combination that only Clark could pull off. "Nothing."

"Mr. Kent, it's good to see you." Lex said charmingly, holding out his hand.

Dad shook it, "Lex," and then turned to us, "Come on, we got to finish up."

"Okay dad," we chorused.

"At least I got a handshake this time," said Lex optimistically.

Clark left, leaving me alone with Lex.

"Is that her?" he asked pointing at Lana.

"Yup, cheerleader, prettiest girl in school, tragic orphan, that's Lana Lang."

"Orphan? You put that into her description?"

I nodded, "Yeah, she lost them in the meteor shower, and her crying face got landed on the cover of Time magazine. Everyone knows what happened, just because your new in town shouldn't mean you are left out on the gossip."

"So that's the girl he got strung up for."

"Yeah, but honestly, he'd probably do it all over again if that ment he could go on a date with her."

Lex hummed thoughtfully.

I scrutinized him, "I may not know you very well yet, but I recognize that look. Your plotting."

He smiled innocently at me.

I rolled my eyes, "I wasn't going to stop you, I just want to be kept in the loop."

"Clara!"

I turned to see dad looking at me, "Got to go, bye."

"Bye" I heard him call after me as I ran to my father.

0000

As we drove home Clark was ignoring me, undoubtedly for the slip up I had had earlier.

"Oh my god, Jonathan!" I heard mom exclaim.

I turned to see a truck on it's side on the road ahead of us , Dad immediately stopped the truck, and Clark ran out to help the driver. I ran out and followed my father to the back to helping him get the fire extinguisher when the truck exploded.

Once the flames had died down the three of us, Dad, Mom, and myself, ran forward to find Clark. He was supposedly near invincible, but his powers were coming in gradually so he might not have reached fireproof yet, so I had ample reason to be concerned.

We found Clark shielding the prone form of Whitney, he only appeared to be singed, but when Dad put his hand on Clark's shoulder he pulled away quickly, nursing his burned hand. Clark looked up, spooked, but unhurt.

"God, Clark, is this saving people thing going to become a habit?"

0000

Once Whitney had been handed off to the paramedics we were free to leave, but once we got him Clark would not stop staring at his arm.

"Whitney's gonna be alright. He's got a couple of cuts and bruises, but nothing serious."

"Too bad."

"Does he remember anything?" Clark asked, ignoring my comment.

"No, just that something smashed his truck and he woke up in the ambulance."

"You need to talk to mom, I think I really freaked her out this time."

" You also made her pretty proud, Clark."

"Yeah, not every mother can say her son pulls people from burning cars." I joked lightly.

"Something else happened this morning. When I woke up I was kind of… floating."

"Floating," Dad said, rolling to word around on his tongue.

"When I woke up I crashed. What's happening to me?"

"I honestly don't know. As soon as you start breaking the law of gravity we are definitely in uncharted territory."

I hummed, "Well you seem to be getting more powers as you age, and flying might be one of them. We can't tell anything for certain unless you do it again." Actually Clark should be able to fly, but he was only fourteen, so he might not get to flying for a while yet.

"I just wish it would stop, why don't you get any of the weird powers?" He asked, turning to me.

I just smiled, "Stop whining, you just came unscathed out of an explosion. I have to catch the bus or I will be late for school, but if you miss it you can just zip over there in an instant. You have gifts, and you have no problem taking advantage of them when you need them. Considering your propensity for trouble, you just might need to fly some day."

"Did you just use propensity in a sentence?"

I looked at him disbelevingly, "That's what you got out of that?" I watched him crack an almost-smile and rolled my eyes, "Never mind I'm going to my workshop, I got a lot of orders today, apparently some of the jocks are having computer issues." I stormed off, leaving the two on the porch.

I had better things to do than to listen to Clark mope.

0000

The next day Clark and I went to the Luthor mansion to deliver the produce Lex had ordered, thankfully he had seemed to get over his bad mood so the ride there wasn't filled with uncomfortable silence, just the regular kind. The guards at the gate let us in easily, so I suspected that Lex had given them the order to give us access. One of the maids was kind enough to direct us to a room we could wait for Lex in, and I was pleased to find a diagram for the battle of Troy.

I always enjoyed a chance to quiz Clark.

"Do you remember how the Trojan war began?"

Clark sighed, "There was a golden apple right?" I nodded helpfully, "It was sent to this prince by Eris who wasn't invited to the Trojan prince holding the ball. It was addressed to the fairest, so the goddesses Athena, Aphrodite, and uh…"

"Hera."

"They were all trying to get the prince to give it to them, so Athena the goddess of war promised victories in battles, Hera the consort of Zeus promised him principal power over the earth, and Aphrodite the goddess of love promised him the most beautiful girl in the world."

"And he chose…" I left it open.

"Aphrodite," supplied Lex, suprising us.

"Even though the most beautiful woman in the world was already married, to a Spartan King." I continued.

"Thus starting the Trojan War." Finished Clark tiredly.

"You covering the Trojan War in English?" asked Lex.

"Not yet, but I saw your model and I couldn't help but test to see if Clark managed to remember any mythology." I said helpfully.

"You've already covered Greek and Roman Mythology in school," Lex asked surprised, I don't know why, it was a fascinating subject.

"No," Clark all but groaned, "But when we were eight Clara found a book on it and took the opportunity to pound as much as she could into my head."

I pouted, "I don't know what your complaining about, learning is fun!"

"So you say."

"So anyway, I heard that you saved that Whitney Fordman's kids life. You keep this up and you could make a career out of it." Lex said, smiling.

"Or get put on the sheriff's radar for being at so many crime scenes." I supplied.

"We're just dropping off your produce. Sorry our parents gave you a hard time."

"Ah, if push came to shove I would have arm-wrestled them or it." I smiled at the millionaire, happy he could brush off my father being so uncharacteristically rude. "Speaking of your parents have you told them about what happened before the dance?"

Clark groaned, "Will you two just drop it? I'm tired of hearing about it already." He glared at us until we nodded contritely.

"Planning an invasion?" Clark asked to break the uncomfortable silence.

"My father gave this to me when I was nine."

"Cool gift."

"It wasn't a gift. It was a strategy tool." Lex said deversively, but I couldn't help but think I would have loved a model of the battle of troy when I was nine, or at least when my parents thought I was nine.

Clark huffed, "Wow, I still think Clara was worse."

I slapped him in the stomach, "I'm not that bad."

Clark turned to Lex, "When she learned about how much money America owes China, she decided that we need to learn their language, or some of them anyway."

"And I got you to conversational in Mandarin and Cantonese, so I don't see why you're complaining. Although we haven't reviewed it in a while, remind me to double check your characters." Clark groaned dramatically. I turned to Lex, to find him amused at our antics, "So why a battle?"

"My father equates business with war. Take the battle of Troy, it started because two men were in love with the same women. Kind of like you and the quarterback, that is why he strung you up, right?"

"I thought we weren't going to talk about this anymore. Besides, if we're at war Whitney's pretty much won."

"You lost one battle, that's all. Besides, I don't believe Lana's as infatuated as you think." That was interesting, as far as I knew the golden couple were solid. Did I miss something?

"He's captain of the football team. The whole town treats him like a god. Game over."

"If you hadn't pulled him out of that truck, your problems would be solved,"Lex said, walking away from the model. He turned back to look at Clark's expression, "I'm kidding of course."

"You have a dark sense of humor," I said thoughtfully, "But I like it."

"Don't worry Clark, I've got your Trojan horse." Lex declared, walking over to the mantle and picking up an old fashioned metal box. He opened it to reveal Lana's necklace. Clark flinched as the effects hit him, backing away slightly.

"Clark, you okay?"

I reached forward and plucked the box from Lex's hand, "I told you Clark has a rather violent reaction to the radiation in the green meteor rocks."

Lex's face immediately turned apologetic, "I'm sorry, I forgot."

"I'm fine." Clark asserted.

"Sure you are," I shrugged at Lex, "You didn't mean to hurt him," I turned and waved the closed box in Clark's face, noticing no negative reaction, "This box is blocking the radiation, is it made of lead?"

Lex nodded, "Yeah, my mother bought it in a Casbah in Moraco. The guy told her it was made of the armor of Saint George… patron saint of Boy Scouts. She gave it to me before she died. Think she was trying to send me a message." He shrugged, handing it to Clark.

"I can't take that," Clark said, walking away, and I shook my head in agreement.

"What is it about Kent's and gifts? It's yours, hand it to Lana tell her what happened. Trust me, once she opens it, you'll win her heart. The necklace gives you the power Clark. All you gotta do is use it." Clark took the box and started walking out.

"Go ahead, wait at the car, I'll be there shortly." I called to him before turning to Lex. "Are you really that clueless or are you trying to send a message?" I asked angrily.

"What?"

His confusion seemed genuine and I realized that maybe he had never had a real friend before, I sighed before continuing, "The problem with Clark accepting that gift has nothing to do with money!"

"So what was the problem?"

"Friendships have to be equal, if one party has more invested than the other than they tend to fall apart. You just shared a story from your childhood, and so did we, but you also gave Clark a gift. A gift given to you from your mother before she died, that has a lot of sentimental value, and to keep the relationship healthy he has to give something too. We don't have anything from our parents to give you!" I groaned smoothing back the bangs that had fallen from my braid.

"Oh."

I worried my lip before coming up with an idea, "Okay, come by the house sometime and I'll show you around. Both Clark and I have private places filled with personal objects. We might not be able to give you something, but that doesn't mean you can't have a look around."

"Both of you? But I didn't get you anything."

That made me smile, "Your helping Clark out with Lana, that means I have to sit through less longing stares and disappointed sighs, you are giving me plenty."

I left him cheerily, happy to have found a solution to the temporary bump in our friendship.

I explained my plan to Clark on the ride back, and suggested he show Lex his telescope.

I already had a plan for something to show Lex, and I hope he liked it.

0000

That night I was interrupted while restoring the project I wanted to show Lex by my Father. Apparently there had been an incident in the barn.

I was staring in horror at the damage Clark had done the blades, knowing that was going to be a pain to fix.

"I never saw anybody move like that. He came right off the ceiling. It was almost as if he—" Dad told mom who was fussing over him.

"Wasn't entirely human?" Clark finished, " I saw his face. I think it was Greg Atkin."

That shocked me from my horror, "Greg? I remember him, obsessed with bugs. I mean entomology is interesting and all but he really went all the way."

"I haven't that name in a long time. Pete and the two of you used to hang out with him in grade school." Mom said.

"Why would he want to hurt you?" Dad asked.

"I don't know." Clark said, and they turned to me.

"I don't know either!" I said indignantly.

"Are you still friends?" asked mom.

"I pass him in the halls."

"I don't see him much either."

"I remember his mother used to keep him on a short leash, but I can't believe he'd hurt a fly."

"Of course he wouldn't, he'd probably capture it and keep it in his room with all his other pets." I said lightly.

"Kids just don't leap off the ceiling and attack people." Said dad.

Clark turned on his flashlight and pointed it on the ceiling, "How do you explain that?" he asked, illuminating the slimy green footprints.

"I don't know, seems kind of out there."

"Oh, this coming from a man who's been hiding a spaceship in his storm cellar for the last twelve years." Quipped Mom.

I looked warily from the footprints to the damaged farm equipment and sighed, "I'll call Chloe, Greg works at the torch and she can start digging on all the strange behavior he's been exhibiting."

"Can't do it yourself?" Clark called down to me.

"I'm busy! I have to fix this stupid piece of junk and test out those solar panels before you can put them on the house."

"Solar panels?" Dad called.

"They'll save money on the electricity bill, so don't argue!" I called off angrily, the men in this family were so stubborn every time I wanted to improve something around the farm.

They wouldn't even let me near the tractor, they were absolutely ridiculous.

0000

The next afternoon Chloe had something on Greg Atkin.

"I found an article on these Amazonian tribesmen who took on the traits of the insects they had been bitten by. But nothing as extreme as Greg's. You have any luck?" Chloe asked, turning to us, where Clark was sitting at the computer and I was sitting next to him trying not to pass out.

"Only that Greg didn't move to Smallville until after the meteor shower. He wasn't exposed."

"What about his treehouse, it was near an impact point and he used to live there as a kid," I said, trying unsecessesfully to hide a yawn. "He could have gotten effected by long term exposure."

"Yeah and what about his bugs?" Chloe asked, excitement brewing, "They were probably exposed. Think about it. Pieces of that meteor are still buried all over Smallville. The whole habitat's infected, so when boy catches bugs and bugs bite boy you get bug-boy."

"Makes sence," I said shrugging, "Or Smallville sence anyway."

"You two, you can't even walk out your door in the summer without being bitten by a mosquito. Why don't we have a whole town of 'bug-people'?"

"Uh, because, you need a high level of toxins to cause mutation. These Amazonian tribesmen were all attacked ny swarms."

"And we all know that Greg kept swarms of bugs in his room." I said dryly.

"Maybe they got sick of the view and staged a revolt," said Clark semi-serious.

"Well according to this bug's have a short life cycle. So if he really has gone Kafka lets hope he isn't in the mating phase."

"Or the eating one." I murmured half-asleep.

0000

That afternoon, after school Clark, Chloe, Pete, and I went to check out Greg's house.

"Doesn't look like anyones home." Chloe said looking through the window.

"Or that anyone's cleaned," I muttered, grimacing at the grime on the window.

"Your right, Clara. The place is a mess. Remember what a neat freak his mom was?" Pete said turning to us.

"Yeah, she used to make us take off our shoes. One time I forgot and she yelled at me." Clark said.

"Is that what broke up the friendship?" asked Chloe.

"After seventh grade Greg's parents got divorced and he just stopped calling after that."

"Which sucked. Cause he had a killer tree fort his dad built in the woods," said Pete.

"It was okay."

I yawned, "I preferred the library."

Pete shot me a look, "Of course you did. Clark never liked it either. He used to get dizzy just walking over there."

"How come?"

It was because of the meteor rocks that littered that area, but Clark never wanted me to talk about it.

"He was afraid of heights." That too.

"It wasn't structurally sound," Clark defended.

"Sure it wasn't," I said smiling.

"You guys come here!" Chloe cried, pushing open the window.

It looked like a mess from outside, but it was even worse on the inside. The house was trashed, with muddy handprints on the walls and the thermometer at 103 degrees Farenheit. It was what we found in the bathroom that was really disturbing. It appeared to be bits of skin, torn off and discarded like cellophane.

"Oh, man that's disgusting. What is it?" asked Pete, snapping a picture.

I bent down and picked up a scarp, "It's skin, he must be molting." I threw it down, thoroughly disgusted.

"You guys better come in here."

Greg's bedroom was covered in webs, like a cobweb but bigger and thicker, and playing on there was footage of none other than Lana Lang.

"Your not the only one with the hots for Lane," said Pete, gesturing at the tv.

"I think Greg's found his mate."

A thought struck me and I started searching the room, under the bed, next to the dresser, anywhere big enough.

"What are you looking for Clara?" asked Clark.

I grimaced but answered, "Most insects follow the same pattern, they eat, then they molt, then they mate. He's already molted, so that means that he's eaten. Some insects, and most arthropods, spiders," I elaborated at Pete's confused look, "Leave the corpse nearby, and as awful as the thought is. Don't you think Mrs. Atkin would just die before letting the house get to such a state? And from the looks of it," I said going over to what appeared to be a cocoon hanging from the ceiling, ripping it open, "She did." I finished, gesturing at the shriveled corpse of Mrs. Atkin. I stepped back from the cocoon, and place a hand over my mouth and nose in an attempt to block the smell that had escaped when I opened the cocoon, it was putrid. "Did you know the Farrow spider, that after it hatches, it kills it's mother?"

"Let's call the police." Said Chloe, her voice muffled by the hand covering her mouth and nose.

"I'm going to wait outside," I said turning to Clark, only to find he had disappeared, most likely after Lana. I sighed, and then instantly regretted it as the smell of rotting meat filled my mouth.

0000

That night, after the police had let us go and Greg Atkin had been neutralized, there was a visitor on the Kent farm. I was testing my solar panel at the time, pleased to find it operational, but disappointed that it didn't seem to be converting as much energy as it should. I would have to go over the designs to find the flaw.

I was alerted to this by some knocking on my workshop's door, I wasn't inside, but I could hear them from the roof. I crawled over the shingles from where I had installed the prototype for my Solar panel to see the heads of my brother and Lex Luthor.

"About time you came over!" I cried, before jumping off the roof and onto Clark, who as expected, caught me easily. "I want to show you Fido!" I declared before jumping down off Clark and rushing inside, leaving the door open in an invitation to follow me.

"Fido?"

I ran past the couch and reached under the desk, "You know how most kids at some point wanted a dog? I did too, but when I was six the adoption was too fresh for me to feel comfortable asking for things, so one night I snuck out to the scrapyard and brought some stuff home. Mom and Dad were so worried when they noticed I was missing, they thought I had ran away, they called the police, there was a manhunt and an amber alert, it was a whole thing, so they were surprised when I came back two days later carrying Fido."

"And Fido is…?"

I grabbed Fido and brought him up for viewing, he was obviously made of a culmination of metals, half-hazardly welded together, expected because I had used an old gas grill in the absence of proper tools. He was dog shaped, with defined eyes, ears, and a nose. I smiled at the billionaire, "I was one of those kids with more brains than I knew what to do with, so instead of asking for a dog, I built one." I set Fido down on the counter and pressed the button on it's back, at first nothing happened, but then the dog's eyes lit up, it's tail waved jerkily back and forth and it's jaw opened releasing a staticy bark. Then the dog's legs began to jerkily move, carrying it slowly across the counter.

"How old were you when you made this?"

"Six." Said Clark from behind him, having opted to not enter the controlled chaos of my space.

"Six," Lex repeated with a raised eyebrow and a disbelieving tone, and then he looked from me to the robot and back again, before smiling, "Clara Kent, you are one of a kind."

I beamed.


	3. Chapter 3

I have no scheduale.

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville

* * *

00 hothead 00

Cheating was one of the worst things you could do to yourself in High School. It wasn't just because you'd get suspended, or that you wouldn't learn the material, it was the permenant black mark it left on your record. Every academic debacle in high school stayed with you for the rest of your life, and with cheating on your record no college would even look at you. Without a college degree there weren't a lot of jobs you could do, or money you could earn.

So for the football players who were caught cheating on their math midterm, it pretty much ensured them minimum wage, blue collar jobs.

There was also the fact that cheating jocks were a definite healine for the _Torch _and Chloe was ruthless.

"Football: Sport or Abuse?" Clark read the headline off the paper, the picture of Coach Walt screaming in the helmeted face of some player complementing it well.

"So, what do you think?" Chloe asked excitedly.

"Wonderfully contreversal," I told her and she beamed.

"I think you seriously need to decrease your cappichino dependedcy," Clark said as he folded up the paper.

"Pete thinks I'm being too hard on Coach Walt."

I looked at Pete questionally, "I mean, the man coached my dad, all my brothers. He used to come over and watch the Superbowl."

"So," I said drawing the word out, "Your biased."

Chloe smiled, "While I'm touched by that Hallmark moment you don't get points for subtly in journalism. I've already started getting hate mail."

"That's great, Chloe," I congradulated her.

"You two seem very happy about that, why?"

"Because it means I'm hitting a nerve," Chloe answered Clark, "besides between the abysmal sentence structure and generous use of obcernities, I've got a good idead who's been sending it."

"If you think my teammates read the _Torch, _you're giving them way too much credit," Pete said, ruffiling Chloe's hair.

Further discourse was halted by Lana Lang storming past us and away from her boyfriend.

"There's something you don't see everyday. A pom-pom meltdown." Chloe crowed.

I watched speculatively, Lex's words from our conversation a few days ago coming to mind. I guess he was onto something.

"Oh, oh, here they come. I need a picture of the cheating jocks." Chloe ordered as the offenders walked by and over to Coach Walt.

"Look I don't want to hear ant rumors going around or false accusations…" The man began.

"Any idea how they got the midterm?" asked Clark.

I eyed the coach, "I might have an few."

Chloe shook her head, "Still a mystery, but I'm working on it."

"We got a problem..." I could hear the coach say.

"What's she doing?" asked one of the jocks, looking at Chloe holding the camera. He scowled before sending a football straight for Chloe's head.

I jumped behind Clark instinctually, but crisis was averted when Clark caught the ball inches from Chloe's head.

Pete crowed, "Nice catch!"

"One of your teammates tries to assassinate me and all you can say is 'nice catch'?" Chloe demanded, before storming away.

"I thought you wanted to hit a nerve?" Pete called to her.

"Wow, real smooth Ross," I said smiling as we split up to go to our respective homerooms. I absently noted Clark sending the football back into the throwers gut, hard, and was vindictively pleased on Chloe's behalf.

0000

At lunch we saw the coach again, Pete, Clark, and I were going to the vending machine. School food may be nutritious, but no way was I going to eat it.

"Hey Kent, I saw your arm out there," called the coach to Clark, "technique was lousy but you've got a lot of power."

"Thanks," Clark said, smiling at the backhanded complement.

"Why aren't you on the team?"

"Wow," I said, wide-eyed, "your subtlty astounds me." The man scowled violently at me and I registered a tingling in the air.

"My dad need me on the farm," Clark said, directing the coach's attention away from me.

"Your school needs you on the field. We got a big game Friday, we're short players. Look, look, I know your dad would understand."

"No, he wouldn't." I said, smiling sweetly.

"He's kind of stubborn," Clark said awkwardly.

"Yeah, I remember. Jonathan Kent was one of the best athletes I ever coached. A lot of God-given talent. It's in your genes, Kent."

"Actually, I'm adopted." Clark replied and I had to muffle the snort that escaped my mouth at the coach's grimace.

"Look, I'm giving you the chance to be part of something special. A part of history. Now I've seen you stare at your father's picture in that trophy case, Don't tell me you don't want to be a part of this. Now why don't you suit up. I mean look at Ross, he dosen't have a lick of natural talent, but he's got a truckload of heart."

"Thanks, I guess," Pete mumbled halfheartedly.

I could tell Clark was eating this up, "You know dad's not going to let you play."

Clark hesitated, "Let me think about it."

Coach Walt looked around before spotting something, "Fordman, get over here."

Whitney and Lana came over and my stock felt almost as if it had turned to lead, although logic dictated that that was implausible.

"Fordman's the team captain. How do you think Kent would do on the field? I mean, considering our current predicament."

Whitney looked Clark up and down, "He might do alright."

"He seems afraid though," the coach goaded.

"That's not the reason, is it Clark?" asked Lana.

"It's my dad –" Clark began.

"Kent." The Coach walked over to get in Clark's face, "There comes a time when you've got to step out of your father's shadow and be your own man. Now, what do you say? Are you ready to be your own man?"

I closed my eyes, knowing and dreading the answer without even looking at Clark's face. There was only one answer he could give after that speech, facing Whitney _and _Lana, and I couldn't bring myself to watch the answer I knew I couldn't stop.

"Count me in."

I leaned over and started banging my head on the wall, drowing out the coach's reply.

"Way to stck to your guns Clark. Way to _not _be manipulated," My deadpan still carried over plenty of sarcasm.

"Hey, Clark, hey," said Pete, "Remind me what your dad said last time you asked him to play."

"He said no."

"He said no. That's what I thought. Call me when the hurtings done, okay." Said Pete, patting Clark on the shoulder as he walked away.

I watched realization dawn as excitement turned to dread. Then he turned to me and I saw his most charming smile spread across his face.

"No, no, no," I shouted, already backing away, "This is your problem and I am not getting into it. I am neutral! I am Sweeden! You hear me, Sweeden!" Then I turned and bolted.

As soon as I got home I was going to my workshop to start imporving my solar panels, and I wasn't going near Clark or Dad until my brother had broken the news.

I was _not_ getting involved in this.

0000

It appears that my choice to not attend Clark's practice was a mistake. Apparently afterward someone had torched Principal Kwan's car with him still inside. Thankfully Clark was there to save him. I was informed of this when I came inside to eat dinner.

I kept seeming to miss the exciting things.

"Okay. Thanks. Bye-bye." Mom said before hanging up the phone, "Principal Kwan's going to be in the hospital till over the weekend."

"Is he going to be alright?" asked Clark.

"He's got burns and suffered smoke inhalation, but he'd going to be okay."

"Anybody see you son?" asked dad, picking at his food.

"Nobody saw me dad," said Clark, hurt evident. "I told the paramedics that I wrapped my hands in my jacket when I pulled him out."

"Lucky you were there."

Clark cracked a smile at mom's comment but he then glared at dad, "Well, I kind of missed my ride."

"Look, at least I saw you play, all right?"

I poked at my food, "I already know Clark can be an awesome football player, even without his powers. I have other things to do than validate a certainty." I muttered defensivly, looking up to see Clark's raised eyebrow, causing me to hunch my shoulders and say, "I'll come to your game, okay? But I really was busy."

Satisfied he had me appropiatly guilty he turned to dad, otherwise known as the-jerk-that-threw-me-under-the-metaphoric-bus.

"You could have easily hurt one of those boys."

"But the point is, I didn't." Clark said, getting up and joining dad as they put their dishes away. "Why are we even having this conversation? He's never going to believe me."

I got up, giving up on finishing dinner, the discord in the house making it hard for me to stomach anything.

"By the way, the coach gave me your old position. Your looking at the starting tailback for this Friday's game," He said proudly, only for dad to walk away without responding. "Don't everyone congradulate me at once."

"Congradulations," I said, dumping my leftovers in the food trash and nearly throwing my dishes in the sink. I almost ran to my bedroom, before throwing on some pajamas and curling up in my bed.

After an hour or two of uselessly lying there watching the sun go down outside my window I gave up and got up to go to my workshop.

I snuggled up on the couch I had for these very occasions, turning all the lights and computers on with my homemade clap-on system. There, with all the lights shining and listening to the hum of the computers; I was finally able to fall asleep.

0000

Clark knew, of course he knew. Before my workshop was built it was his room I had crawled into and begged him to keep all the lights on everytime there was an argument in the house, whether over money, or Clark's abilities. I hated it whenever there was fighting at home, as it never failed to remind me of the unrest before I was put into storage.

I created this ritual because otherwise I couldn't sleep, and Clark had witnessed all the less secsessful stages himself. So I really shouldn't have been so surprised when he came to my workshop the next morning, carrying a change of clothes, my backpack, and a chocolate-peanut butter smoothie, my favorite kind.

I didn't say a word as he loaded me onto his back and ran us into town, knowing with the completion of my solar panels there was something I needed to get. It was the patent application, so that I could legally own my design, and I had been wanting to get it yesterday before the football issue came up.

It caused a big enough lift to my mood that I agreed to come to the pep rally after school.

Once we were there my mood quickly sunk, as the fire didn't provide sufficient lighting to work on my application, so instead I opted to follow Chloe, who was doing her power walk. I remained at a safe distance when I noticed she had cornered one of the cheating jocks. I tended to be a nuisance when it came to getting sources to talk.

The conversation was brief as the jock stormed away.

Seeing no chance in ruining something now I caught up with her.

"Chloe!" I called. "What'd you say to him? Normally your better at getting sources to talk."

"I just showed him this picture," Chloe said, handing me the camera. It showed Coach Walt facing a huddle group of figures wearing letterman jackets, but the really interesting thing was that the sprinklers appeared to not be shooting water, but fire.

"Cool, what are you thinking? Meteor power?"

"Do you have another explanation?" Chloe asked smiling.

Several but none of them were as plausible as the first, for one I was near positive that Coach Walt was not from an alien planet. "Nope, lets go, I want to sneak a peek at tommorow's front page."

Chloe smiled, and we made our way to the newspaper room.

0000

I was trying to read the story from over Chloe's shoulder when the computer spontaneously burst into flames, which then spread spread across the room like it had been covered in gasoline.

"Thant is definetly not natural," I said eyeing the flames.

"You think?" Chloe asked sarcastically, an edge of hysteria in her tone.

We backed away from the flames and into the wall, and I spotted the glow of the pep rally's bonfire below.

'I really hope Clark hears me', was my thought before I started yelling, "Help! Help!"

Chloe took her eyes away from the flames to turn around and join me. "Clark! Help!"

I saw Clark spot us and then run off, that combined with the smoke made me quit screaming. Chloe did as well, taking off her coat and turning it around so that it could cover her face and back, I copied her and flowed her as she summersaulted over the burning desk. We threw off our burning jackets and Chloe ran for the door, only to be stopped when it burst into flames as well.

"I hate organized sports!" I yelled, ignoring Chloe's surprised look, i knew just who was behind this.

The flames were as tall as us now, and surrounding us at all sides, "Oh my god," Chloe cried.

"Clara! Chloe!" I heard Clark yell and suddenly the flames died down.

Clark burst into the door and wrapped us in his arms.

0000

"The _Torch _torched. How's that for dramatic irony?" Clark asked, his smile faltering at the look Chloe shot him. "Just trying to get you to smile."

"This is more than arson, Clark. It's like the fire knew what we were doing."

"Or the person controlling it did," I said darkly.

At Clark's skeptical look Chloe continued, "Look at the facts! Kwan launches an investigation into the cheating scandal. Coach Walt tries to fry his car. One of his players comes forward, and he threatens them with pyrotechnic sprinklers. I am about to print that picture, and the _Torch_ goes up in flames." Chloe finished gesturing to the charred room.

"Now you think he's behind the cheating scandal? Come on, Chloe."

"Coach obsessed with winning his 200th game helps bonehead players pass test to secure his position in the pantheon of high school sports."

"Do you have another copy of the picture?"

"No, it's kind of hard to recover the files."

I chose to speak up, "The hard drives are completely melted, there's nothing left to recover."

"We don't have any proof."

"Trevor Chapell," Chloe said in an epiphany.

"What about him?"

"Is he the one you tried to talk to earlier?" I asked curiously.

"Yes he was, he's also the one who talked to Kwan about the cheating. He wants to talk, I know it, but's he's still scared to talk to me but I think he might open up to you."

Clark nodded in agreement.

"Clark?" I asked, unwilling to force the plantative whine out of my voice, "I want to get a smoothie."

0000

Clark decided to take me to the Beanery, rather than home, so I could work on my application in peace and he could simulataiously watch me and watch out for Trevor.

I was surprised to see two familiar faces when we got inside, Lana Lang who was wearing one of the Beanery's green apron's and holding a notpad, and Lex Luthor who was sitting in a big armchair at a tiny table littered with blue folders.

"Well, if it isn't Smallville's latest football star," she cried.

"Lets see how I do tomorrow night," Clark replied, "Have you seen Trevor tonight?"

"No, he hasn't been in."

I took a seat in the chair opposite Lex, not in the mood to wait out Clark and Lana's talking.

"How are things going here?" Clark asked.

"Today is just one of those days I want to scream," said Lana.

"For what it's worth I think it's cool you got this job." So that exspalined the apron, but not why she was just standing there talking to Clark instead of taking orders.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I'm not going to see you play tomorrow. New girl gets the worst shifts. So can I get you anything?"

"May I have a cup of coffee?"

"I'll have a chocolate peanut butter smoothie." I called out.

"Coming right up." Lana said.

"Thanks."

Clark pulled up a chair next to me, handing me a pen so I could start.

"Rumor has it Clark Kent joined the football team," said Lex.

"It's true," Clark said gesturing to his jersey.

"Congradulations, your father must be thrilled."

"Actually he freaked out and said I couldn't play."

"And now they won't stop fighting," I whined helplessly, but was ignored.

"I'm surprised with my dad. He claims I should make my own decisions but when I do, he shuts me down."

"And your out late, waiting for him to go to bed so you can avoid the uncomphortable silence that greets you when you get home," concluded Lex.

"Well yeah, but he's also here because I wanted a smoothie after my attempted murder." I said blithely.

Lex started, turning to me, alarm clear on his features, "Attempted murder?"

I nodded sleepily, "Chloe was typing an article on how the coach gave these jocks the math midterm and threatened their silence with py-ro-tech-nic sprinklers and I was with her when the computer, followed by the whole room burst into flames. I'm 97% sure it was Coach Walt, but we have no proof, and who do you think they'll listen to? Two freshmen girls with a ridicoulous story, or the widly respected coach, not even worth the waste of breath." I moped at the unfairness of it all.

"That's awful, maybe I can do something."

I shook my head, "Don't bother, based on the pattern of past events Clark will stop him in some heroic way and I wouldn't want anyone to take that away from him."

Clark glared at me before going back to the original subject, "How'd you know about the uncophortable silence?"

"Uh, the Luthors wrote the book on uncophortable silences," Lex said almost absently, before turning again to me, "Are you telling me the truth or do you just like suprising people?"

Both, I smiled mysteriously, already in a better mood. "I guess you'll find out, huh, Lex?" I turned back to my packet, filling out the next question.

"What are you working on?" Clark asked Lex, trying once again to change the subject.

Lex shrugged, dismissing my earlier spiel, and opened a folder, "I'm trying to figure out which poor bastards should get the ax. My father wants me to cut 20% of my workforce."

"Any way around it?"

"Once my father's made up his mind he's not easy to turn around."

Lana chose then to return with our drinks, "If it makes you guys feel any better you should have seen my aun't face when I took this job. Not that I was eavesdropping or anything." Lana handed me a drink that looked remarkably like an iced coffee, and nothing like the smoothie I wanted.

"I guess we're all in the same boat."

"Except me, I'm the good twin right now," I muttered under my breath, and wasn't _that_ an unpleasant surprise?

"No, no, you both stood your ground and are doing what you want. I caved. You two have inspired me," Lex said, holding up his whipped cream covered drink in a toast.

"Oh, yeah, joing the football team and pouring some coffee, we're a couple of real rebels." Clark said dryly.

"Long live the revolution." Lana joked.

Lex took a drink and so did I, "How is it?" Lana asked.

"Perfect," we replied in unison.

"Is that what you ordered?" Clark asked.

"Not even close."

I eyed my drink warily, "I asked for a smoothie, the only thing that and this have in common is that they're served cold."

Clark set his drink down gently, like it was about to leap out of his cup and eat him, making me laugh.

I reached over and took Lex's drink, and was pleasantly surprised to find it was hot cocoa, which was at least chocolate flavored, and got down to work next to Lex.

Maybe today wasn't a total bust after all.

0000

My good mood carried over into the next day, the night before I had been able to finish my booklet so I was positively estatic, even if the night did end with me camping out in my workshop.

I lost track of Clark after school and I assumed he was going to Trevor Campell's house, so I went with Chloe to the football game. Thus I was confused when he didn't show up for the first play.

"Clara! Chloe!" cried mom and I looked to see in surprise that dad had decided to join her.

I waved as Chloe cried, "Hi Mrs. Kent. Hi Mr. Kent."

"Smallville resident cynic have a change of heart?" asked mom smiling, no doubt referring to Chloe's presence at a football game.

"Well I decided to put my personal politics aside to support my friends," Chloe said, gesturing to the field.

"Yes, we're trying the same philosophy," said mom, gesturing to dad.

"Where's Clark?" asked Dad.

"I don't know, we we're supposed to meet him but he didn't show. I thought he was with you."

I stood up suddenly, "I'm going to go look for him, there isn't much point in watching all the other people play."

As I exited the stadium I constructed a plan of attack based on Clark's exspected destinations for the day. After school he was supposed to go to Trevor's house to talk to him, then he was supposed to meet Chloe and I, but I was unsure if he was planning on going to the locker room first. If so then that would be where he was held up, if not at Trevor's.

I was mildly nervious entering the boy's locker room, even when logically, I knew I shouldn't be, as there were no boys to talk in on. Even then it was unreasonable as I was quite knowledgable of human anatomy, both male and female, but chalked it up to cultrual norms and moved on.

I was passing the sweatbox when I noticed Clark's red backpack sitting next to it, and when I looked inside I saw Clark's prone figure lying among some rocks and steam that appered to be have a green tint.

"Great," I grumbled, pulling on the handle to find it locked, seeing no ther immediate alternative I tried ramming my shoulder into the door, but my small frame did little more than make it rattle.

"Clara?" I looked to see my dad coming toward me.

"It's Clark, he's trapped!" Dad came over and moved my aside, before kicking the door in. Dad ran in and grabbed Clark up by the shoulders, and I grabbed his feet as we dragged him out.

"It's the meteor rocks. That must be how the coach got exspo—" and then there was an inpact at the back of my head and the world went black.

0000

When I regained consciousness I was being loaded into the back of an ambulance, but I was unaware of that at the time. All I could see were unfamiliar figures standing over me and moving me into a strange vehicle. My hands shot out only to be stopped by the straps on my arms. I emitted a wordless panicked scream, causing the figures over me to pause.

"Clara!"

I looked over to see a grown Kal-El and it all come rushing back, I recognized that I was in a gurney about to be loaded into an ambulance and I noted the dull throbbing pain at the base of my skull.

"What happened with Coach Walt?" I asked Clark.

For some reason Clark began to laugh and then just didn't stop.

0000

A while later I had been briefed on what had occurred when I was unconscious. Coash Walt had killed himself with his own flames in 'a tragic fire'. Clark was unscathed and I had a mild concussion.

"So that whole joke thing, not a joke." I looked over to see a mildly pissed looking Lex Luthor.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"If you believe the official report," I said, smiling slyly.


End file.
